


Let Lips Do What Hands Do

by sarahxsmile



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahxsmile/pseuds/sarahxsmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Irvin's hands that began it, he knew. Large and warm, pushing Levi’s hips to the side as he slipped by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Lips Do What Hands Do

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're so inclined, my tumblr is ghosts-and-bones for Halloween (though my usual is rhymesfordimes if you happen to read this after October)!
> 
> Also, self-beta'd so I do apologize for any mistakes <3

It began with a touch (isn't that how it always begins?). Several touches, maybe. That's what Levi told himself as he stared his headaches into the wall, wishing they’d disappear and let him concentrate on breakfast instead of the idea of Irvin’s skin.

The dining tables stretched out on either side, the room not completely empty, but the tables lacked the crowd they usually seated. A rare free day when the members of the corps weren’t required to be ready so early, it was only those who didn’t sleep or couldn’t break their early habits who were wandering the dining hall. 

It was a nice relief from the bustle that always accompanied large amounts of people, no matter what time it was.

Levi spooned oatmeal into his mouth with the kind of half concentration of someone who’s trying not to think of something and not succeeding particularly well in the endeavor. 

The circling thoughts in his head were all Irvin. He wasn’t the only reason Levi was up so early, but he was one of them, the main one. It was hard to fall back asleep after waking up in Irvin’s bed, the way it was unfamiliar and the soft, breathing heat of Irvin’s body pressed against Levi’s back. He had slipped out of bed, mildly surprised at the way Irvin wasn’t disturbed in the slightest, and dressed as quietly as he could. 

He had then made his way to the dining room, all the thoughts in his head still behind him. 

It was Irvin's hands that began it, he knew. Large and warm, pushing Levi’s hips to the side as he slipped by. That was the first. Levi remembered it even now. Remembered the heat that soaked in through his clothes. Remembered the way they seemed to imprint on his hips. Remembered the way they were too easy to recall, over and over again. 

It was like he had memorized their shape and the way he thought they’d feel wrapped around his cock, and that was all he could think of for weeks. Until the next time.

The next time, Irvin’s fingers against his own, taking his blades to check them, and it had been all Levi could do not to press his own fingers against his lips. The lingering warmth of contact had been thrilling in his bones, but he hadn’t wanted it. Still didn’t want it. He had to concentrate on training, on remaining the best, not on the way Irvin’s fingernails were cut short as he offered the blades back. Another brief touch. 

After that, Levi had noticed more and more that Irvin was nearby all the time. That their arms brushed while passing in the hallways, the way Irvin’s hands lingered on Levi’s shoulders and hips when he checked Levi’s sparring stance. Irvin wouldn’t really look at him, though. He would speak to him as he did to everyone else. Levi didn’t understand, didn’t want to be the same as everyone else if he had to linger on these things. He wanted to stop thinking about Irvin’s skin and what it might feel like against his own, under his hands.

It only got worse when Irvin’s fingertips brushed over the back of his neck as he walked by in the dining hall, deliberate and slow and Levi turned almost immediately. He lost his appetite and watched Irvin walk away, down the tables, greeting other soldiers. The feeling stayed with him like a breath against his skin, and it was enough to leave Levi distracted for days—or rather, nights. Distracted by the idea of the brush turning into a tight grip, holding him down. Irvin’s hand still on his hip. 

It kept happening, until Levi expected some kind of contact every time he was around Irvin. A hand on his hip, or his arm, or his neck. Brushes too long over his arm in the hallway, and it made Levi’s heart race, and he hated it. He didn’t like being distracted so easily.

The voices in the dining hall were getting louder, bringing Levi from his thoughts for a moment. He looked down, noticing his bowl was empty and his stomach full. He looked up again, seeing more people than before. The corners of his mouth turned down; he had liked the quiet, even if it made him think more about everything that he didn’t want to. Like the fact that Irvin was (probably) still in bed, still sleeping too open and warm, like he didn’t care. Levi didn’t know how he didn’t care, how his sleep was easy to keep. 

They were so different. Levi was small and fast and trusted his immediate instincts, and Irvin was big and broad and he understood things in the ways Levi couldn’t. 

Maybe that was why Irvin didn’t care. Maybe he understood this in Big and Broad ways that Levi didn’t or couldn’t yet. There was still the truth that Irvin hadn’t led him wrongly, at least not yet. Levi wasn’t sure if there would ever be a person who could hold his trust completely, in the way that he would never think about second guessing them, but with every right decision Irvin made, Levi found himself agreeing more and more quickly.

Maybe that was why Irvin’s hand last night, resting at the small of his back for a fraction of a second too long, turned into more. Turned into Levi pushing Irvin away from the other soldiers, heart pounding like it really knew what it wanted. Levi had to jerk Irvin down by his collar to kiss him the first time. 

Every other kiss was given before Levi had the chance to say that he wanted it. 

Levi shook his head and stood, bowl in hand. He kept his head up as he made his way back to the front of the room. The dishwasher’s hands were warm and wet as he handed the bowl over, and he resisted the urge to wipe the damp onto his pants. 

Irvin was still stuck in Levi’s head even after all of this thinking, so much that Levi was sure he’d think all of the thoughts he could of Irvin, his fingernails and his teeth and his skin unending. All of these things that he didn’t want to think about as he walked out of the filling dining room.

He didn’t want to fall for Irvin. He didn’t want to fall for anyone. He had still a job to do and he couldn’t be distracted by something like desire. And he’d been distracted by Irvin for weeks and weeks already, and he realized it would only get worse now that he knew what it was like to have him.

Him, Irvin, like marble or granite, pushing Levi flat against the wall. Him, his breath too hot, rapid over Levi’s ear. Him, his fingertips careful stroking over Levi’s collarbones, his chest, his stomach. 

It was too easy to get lost, to remember heat and damp breathing and the way Irvin bared his teeth and dug his fingers in when he came. Levi hadn’t been able to close his eyes, like it was all a dream and there was no escaping it. There was no escaping it. He had been playing with fire—been played with—touched it, and the burn was lingering. 

He scowled deeply as he walked, and a few soldiers hurried past him as though it was them he cared about. He wanted to find somewhere to be alone, somewhere where Irvin wouldn’t find him. He didn’t want to think of it as hiding; he simply needed more time. More time than half a morning’s worth of thought and desire in his blood. 

Certainly he had wanted Irvin ever since that first touch, but it had been ignorable, in spite of the contact he couldn’t forget. 

But now desire had been fed and it was a greedy animal. The feeling of Irvin’s hands on his hips, the way they felt that first time was only amplified now, now that he knew the imprints of Irvin’s calluses and how he wasn’t afraid to press his fingers into bruises. The way Irvin’s skin smelled at the base of his neck. 

Levi shook his head and made his way to his quarters quietly, keeping a look out for anyone who might see him. He saw a few people on the way, but no one who knew him well enough to try and talk to him, and he was thankful as he slipped into his room and locked the door behind. 

He took a step in, and then another, and then pulled his clothes off so he could change into something more comfortable; he didn’t intend to leave for the rest of the day if he could help it. He would spend his day quietly in his room, and he wasn’t hiding—he wasn’t—he simply needed to be alone. 

The plan fell short a few hours later when the quick rap of knuckles on wood pulled Levi from his place on his bed—he had been thinking about taking a nap—and he glared at the door. His glare intensified as the person tried the door and found it locked.

“Levi.” Irvin’s voice. Of course Irvin’s voice, low and coaxing like fingers down Levi’s spine. Levi didn’t respond, buried his head further in the pillow. 

“Levi, this door doesn’t lock from the outside,” Irvin said, and he sounded almost amused now and Levi growled to himself before he stood up and unlocked the door, though he didn’t open it as he walked back to the bed.

He heard the door open and shut quietly and he turned as he sat on the bed, looking up at Irvin darkly. 

Irvin held his gaze for a long moment before he pulled the chair up so he could sit facing Levi. He moved close enough to lock Levi’s knees between his. Levi glared down at them, not wanting to speak first, but Irvin didn’t say anything.

“What are you doing here?” Levi asked finally, looking up at Irvin again. Irvin touched Levi’s knees and Levi’s jaw clenched. 

“You left this morning,” Irvin said, and Levi stared at him because that much was obvious, but it didn’t answer his question. He continued to glare at Irvin, and Irvin gave him a small smile like it was funny.

“So what?” Levi asked, keeping his voice as sour as he could. Irvin’s palms slid up to Levi’s thighs. The motion swung up through Levi’s body and out of his mouth in a breath. Irvin kept his gaze level, even as he leaned in. He was getting inside Levi’s head, Levi could see it behind Irvin’s eyes, the way he was working out everything about Levi in this moment and Levi hated it. He didn’t want to be able to be known like that, and Irvin did it so easily it punched his breath from his lungs again.

“Levi,” Irvin said in his tone, the one that was low and sunk into the marrow of Levi’s bones, “In this world, there are things that we can’t change and things we can,” Irvin continued, his tone like he knew what Levi wanted and was going to give it to him, a tone Levi hated. Irvin paused before he went on, “And there are things we don’t want to.” 

And really, it shouldn’t have been so easy to undo him like that. Levi didn’t even know where the tight knot in his chest fell, on the scale of unchanging and changing, and desire to change, but he slumped anyway. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked but he didn’t really expect an answer. He closed his eyes as Irvin leaned closer, felt lips pressed into his hair. He swallowed, let another moment pass in silence before he let his hands rest on top of Irvin’s. 

Irvin didn’t say anything. He ducked his head, pressing their lips together. Levi couldn’t make himself pull away, he didn’t want to, and he realized that he didn’t know if he’d ever pull away. He let out a breath and Irvin pulled away to look at Levi. The amusement was still in his eyes, and Levi wanted to punch him, almost did, but Irvin turned his hands over in that moment to hold Levi’s.

“Not so bad, hm?” he murmured, still close enough for Levi to still feel breath against his lips. Levi didn’t respond, his gaze dark on Irvin’s. He watched as Irvin smiled at his lack of response, as he leaned in again and pressed their lips together. And with that action, Levi knew this was it for him. He sighed into Irvin’s mouth and jerked him forward, taking pleasure in the surprised grunt the action earned.

“You’re gonna have to take responsibility,” Levi muttered against Irvin’s lips, not elaborating on whether it was for the moment, for his feelings, or for Levi himself. He bit Irvin’s lower lip. Irvin laughed and pushed Levi further on the bed.

“Gladly,” Irvin said, his fingers pushing up under Levi’s shirt. Levi huffed, but a pleased feeling settled in his stomach and he arched under Irvin’s hands. 

And with that, Irvin’s touch began to quiet Levi’s thoughts rather than multiply them. Levi could concentrate on the dry heat of Irvin’s hands and the way his own skin was getting hot. On getting Irvin out of his clothes, getting out of his own clothes. The way Irvin felt between his legs, Irvin’s hands on his hips. 

Irvin wouldn’t let him get up afterwards, arms too strong around Levi’s waist. To be fair, Levi hadn’t tried very hard.


End file.
